Tell you all my secrets

LonelyDumptruck has been in my hometown for a week visiting my folks, hanging with the Pack of weiner dogs, shopping, seeing burlesque.  Oh, and doing training for work.  That was the real reason for the trip.

 

Sunday afternoon I dropped him off at the airport and then headed over to the real estate to work on the mailout until my eyes started to bleed.  I picked up Rise of the Planet of the Apes and Don't Be Afraid of the Dark from Redbox and heated up some soup for dinner.

 

I ended up re-watching the mid-season finale and then the new episode of Walking Dead.  I should have waited for LonelyDumptruck, but I couldn't bear waiting another week to see what was going to happen.   LonelyDumptruck called several times.  He was having trouble opening the file with his resume/application for a new position so I had to resend it in various formats.

 

Years ago I read the original novel of The Planet of the Apes and I loved it.  I haven't seen all the sequels from the 70's but, I admit, I want to see them.  Rise of the Planet of the Apes was alright.  I liked it right up until the moment

( Spoiler be here )

I made it through about half of Don't Be Afraid of the Dark before pooping out.

 

Monday night I went over to Geolinguist's sister's house to pet the kitties and meet the chickens.   Lila was a perfect calico lady, but I offended Caddock by calling him the Orson Wells of cats.  In my defence, he looks like a cross between a Main Coon cat and a palomino.

 

Feeding the chickens was fun.  When I was a little girl and we went to visit Grandma and Uncle H.O.'s family in Iowa, one of my jobs was collecting the eggs, so it was cool to get to do that again.  I wasn't very good at getting the chickens to get off the eggs when I was little and the chickens would peck at me.  Monday I got one egg but I couldn't get the chicken off the other.  She was too polite to peck, though.

 

After that we had good beers and bruchetta at Midnight Sun.  None of the main courses looked appealing,.so we crossed town to Table Six so Geolinguist
could have a burger and I could get ravioli. 

 

I finished Don't Be Afraid of the Dark when I got home.  It was beautifully shot but, ultimately, uninspiring.  I'd read it was based on a TV movie and it still had a real teleplay feel to it.  I could tell where commercials wanted to go.

 

Tuesday I went over to the real estate office for a little bit, until LonelyDumptruck called and I went home so he could tell me about my Valentines gift.  He'd hidden a bottle of tequila for me and then bought a flask for himself so we could have a drink together before he went to a burlesque show. 

 

A few shots later I settled in to binge on episodes of The River, a new show Mountain_Hiker recommend to me.

 

Imagine a television nature show host  beloved like the Crocodile Hunter or Marlon Perkins has gone missing in the Amazon and his wife and estranged son go to look for him with a camera crew and producer who hope to turn the hunt into a new season of his show.  They turn down a fork in the river that isn't supposed to be there and veer off into some serious Lost territory. I am really loving it.  I can see where some of the conventions will wear thin if they don't change them up - the monster of the week and using one character for The Perils of Pauline plots - but so far it is off to a good start.

 

A dear theater friend is in town visiting for the week and extended an invitation for people to meet him for dinner at an Italian restaurant near the real estate office Wednesday night, so I worked for a bit and then headed over.  Only two other people came, but it was awesome to see him.  We shared mussels and I ordered spaghetti.  Both were thick with cloves of roasted garlic the size of new potatoes.  I'm petty sure LonelyDumptruck could smell me all the way in Tacoma. 

 

I desperately wanted to watch the new episode of Top Chef, but I forced myself to wait until LonelyDumptruck gets home.  Instead I took a muscle relaxer and watched old episodes of Top Chef Masters until the challenges started to bleed together.

 

Thursday night was even more low-key.  I skipped the real estate office in favor of getting a few chores done and then house managed a show.  They sprung a Q & A on me, so I got done later than I planned but I still got to talk to LonelyDumptruck and watch some cooking TV.

 

I didn't know when LonelyDumptruck was coming home, so I signed up to house manage every night this weekend.  CrownWench picked him up at the airport and dropped him off at Beartooth for a brr-lesque hostess' birthday gathering.  I'm hoping to be done in time to join them.

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A few years ago, on Mother's Day, I walked into the computer room and there was a card sitting on my keyboard.

It had a cartoon of a rather portly grey and white tabby cat slaving away, pen to paper, and read:

Happy Mother's Day from the Cat.

I am writing you this Mother's Day Card, which is a difficult thing because I am a cat, because I love you very much and because, recently, a terribly rumor has come to light and I need your reassurance that it isn't so...

and inside it said:

Tell me I wasn't adopted?

Love,

Mao Tse Cat

Almost first thing this afternoon we went for a long walk on the beach. This whole trip has been so surreal I hardly know what to say. I got hugged by a Santa in a blue suit, after all. El Santa Azul rocked.

We had dinner in courses over 4 or 5 hours - kebabs, spicy shrimp, fruit, presents, green salad, all the beer, all the rum...it was a very good Xmas.

After digesting and drinking Jay, Lori, Mark and I went out to feed the cats. There is a huge semi-feral cat population down near the river. They all look very happy, friendly and well-fed but not one of them looks a day over 2. It´s like the Logan´s Run of cat cities. Lori and I ädopted¨ 2 kittens but one of them was adopted for real last night. We were standing there, cooing over the black one (Esteban) and the white one (Whitey) when this lady just walked up Öh! White!¨ I agreed that Whitey was, indeed, un gato blanco, and she scooped him up, sang ¨Feliz Navidad¨and walked away with him, leaving us gobsmacked and Esteban to his own devices. Mark is pretty sure Esteban is an orphan. I´m pretty sure he´s coming home in someones´bag.

We hung out at la playa for a bit after that. There was dueling live music from opposite sides of the road one was a techno violin act performing everything from Enya and Vivaldi to the Beatles and ABBA. Jay bought all 5 of their CDs. The violinist was cute but he was too shy to talk to her so I had to get her autograph. On the other side was a Latino drumming group who was, apparently, very funny. I understood ¨here we are...¨and that was about it.

We fly home tomorrow.

Oh, and James Brown died. Woza James. As Joey the Lips Fagan would say, James Brown was oul.

We have to keep reminding ourselves that it is Christmas Eve.

Mark and I had a great time hanging out with his brother and sister last night. We ended up in a place called Tacolandia which, in spite of the dubious name, had fantastic peelers and even better cadilac margaritas (a fact Lori kept bringing up until the waiter started to miss her when she stepped out to use eñ bano).

This morning was, understandably, rough, but we rallied to shop for Christmas dinner and then the family gift exchange. Lori drew mom so we all posed for a caricature down on la playa. The picture doesn´t look much like us, but I know she will laugh.

Mark and I had a nice walk on la playa tonight and got snacks - we could feast tomorrow for under $5 if the vendors are out. I got corn on the cob that was fire roasted and rubbed down with lime and pepper. I want to make it on our grill this summer.

Today marks the second Dia de el Maotra.

It was 2 years ago today we lost our beloved grey flannel meatloaf of a cat.

Last year on this day I told Mao tse Cat stories and talked about how Mark and I had once thought of making a little "virtual shrine" of a web site for the boy where people could share their favorite memories.

As I always say, Mao was a big cat. 18 pounds of bone crushing, organ piercing love. But he was also a very calm cat. He was chatty, but not the hair covered wiggins Nemo was.

One of my favorite things about Mao was that he seemed to be aware that he was a large mammal and that he needed to be gentle with "smaller" creatures. We could fuck with him almost endlessly with very few clawy repercussions. We'd carry him around. He'd let us rub his belly. Occasionally he would be unamused, but usually instead of striking back he would run away or stalk off with something very much like embarrassment written all over his grey herringbone hide.

The only time he took no prisoners was when he was on "HIS" stair.

Our second apartment with Mao had an open spiral staircase and his spot was exactly halfway up. From there he could watch the front door, peep into the kitchen, roll over to look into the living room or gaze upwards to see the bedrooms and bathroom. In other words, he could survey his entire kingdom from that perch.

And when we walked up and played with is feet or tail he would rain down furry vengence upon us.

Woza, Mao. Rise up. Live again.

I miss you very, very much.

This will only be funny to a few, but I still think it's funny enough to post here:

Last night I got some of that "Bigger Cock!" spam. Nothing remarkable, except for the subject line...

Murray wanted me to forward this to you.

I think we need to have a talk with Dana.

Did you ever have one of those mornings where you wake up and sort of run the mental checklist and it comes out "okay, ____ is good. This feels okay. No worries with ________...Okay. As long as I can keep from doing anything stupid today should be a very good day."?

On a related note - should I worry that the fair opens in 2 weeks, I have not seen my costume, I have complete faith in those who has promised me a costume, and I'm not worried at all?

I'm really getting used to this whole "most nights off" schedule. Went to play disc golf with a huge crew last night after dinner at Humpy's, but by the time I got there I was feeling like I didn't want to be the worst player on the course, so I opted to "caddy". kahteeyah did that too. It was a fabulous night for a walk. And it gave us the Mark Line of the Week "Putz not name! Putts job!!"

The night before Mark, geolinguist, scooterpbakes, kahteeyah and I went to a tapas place called Cafe Savannah which ROCKED!!!! We were trying to remember what all we ate during the game last night, because the menu was epic - garlic bread with cheese, tomato bread with anchovies, the shrimp skewers, olive plate, cheese plate, stuffed mushrooms, potato omelet thing, ham omelet thing, asparagus wrapped in prosciutto, red peppers with garlic, 4 bowls of almonds and pistachios, something else with chorizo, 5 deserts and 2 bottles of wine. Anyone who wasn't there want to guess what the bill came to for everything?

Mark and I both got City of Heroes, which has caused me to upgrade my video card and get a new monitor (Thanks scooterpbakes!!) I'm having a ball just playing for little bits each day as an unwind from Conservatory work. So far I have delved into my favorite things and made Ghost Light (7th level defender) and Aspar-Teen (6 or 7th level controller). Mark got the game first, since it would only run on his computer, so I was playing a kind of disposable blaster called Merry Magnam. I'll probably remake her on my own game and spell the name right.

We hosted a rehearsal/BBQ for our Ren Fair group last night and one of our friends brought her 3-year-old daughter. Great kid, currently deeply in the questions stage. They are the family who took in Nemo and Murray when Mark's allergies got too bad.

So, the girl is going around the house asking about things and comes upon a little statue of two cats Mark's dad gave us and promptly asks their names. I know the names because dad named them as soon as I took them out of the box; Nemo and Mao. Well, this created a great deal of conversation about how we could both have cats called Nemo but we finally got it all cleared up and made an understanding that my Nemo was her Nemo.

Then the conversation about Mao started.
"Can I see Mao?"
"Mao isn't here any more either, he died."
"Why?"
"Well, he got very old and sick."
(repeat as child feel necessary until)
"Where is Mao?"
"....."

And luckily her mom chimed in with "Mao went to kitty-cat heaven" because the first thing that went through my mind was "Well, I have his ashes right here, want to see?"

Not having rehearsals or shows the last 3 nights has been interesting. I still really haven't had a break of any kind, but it's been nice to do other things. Tuesday our friend Carl brought over the 3rd Matrix and we made pizzas. In the middle of all that, Chris Joosee (with a name so fun you just can't stop spelling it) called to let us know he is getting married this summer. I think we decided what our trip is going to be this year! I can't wait!

Yesterday started off...well....I opened the bedroom door and there was a cat in our living room. Luckily it was not Tybalt returning home, it was one of the kids who lives downstairs. The kitchen window was left open after all the pizzas made the house stuffy from oven-heat and he just wandered in and took over the place. He let me pick him up and give him a cuddle before I kicked his hairy butt out.

It's been so nice lately we rushed home (picking up Taco Bell on the way) and bombed out for a quick game of disc golf. Man, I have not improved one bit. But I will say I was the only one not to hit the tress on the second hole. That's only because I can't throw that far. We had to rush because we had tickets to the Fly-By-Night Club for a Three Barons fund raiser. We still had time for 9 holes and some schmoozing at the club, though. I haven't been for so long, most of the show was new and we had a ball! One of my favorite jokes of the night (and it was by no means the best - one of the best was Dubya and Cheney singing "The Liar Sleeps Tonight"..."shock and awe. Shock and awe. Avenge my pa, avenge my pa")was the whole bit about aerial wolf-killing. Whitekeys found one of the articles where they talk about how much more humane it is to sterilize the wolves but while the hearing about it was going on, and actual, real-life trapper testified "You don't get it. These wolves aren't screwing our moose, they're eating them."

Well - off to the theatre. First show of the week and the audience is rumored to he HUGE. Wish us luck.

Well, it appears four is Tybalt's lucky number. Yesterday afternoon, the fourth person to offer to take in the poor boy is the proud owner of a slightly used tuxedo cat. Mark called me at lunch to let me know he was dropping Tibby off. Luckily Tibby said goodbye to me in the nicest way that morning. I was feeding him and right after he stuck his head in the bowl at started porking away, he suddenly jerked his head up and looked just like a person going "OH shit! I almost forgot!!" and then walked all the way around me and rubbed against my legs before settling back down to eat. It was terribly sweet.

People at work seem to have remembered a temp is there to help everyone out, not just the person in who's chair she sits, so they have been keeping me busy as a fluffer at a porno marathon. It's kind of a nice change. The person I usually double for at the temp gig just left on paternity leave for an unspecified amount of time. That's one of the great/worst things about this office "Sam's gone for a while. We think we'll need you for at least a couple weeks, but we're not sure when he's coming back".

I'm still working at getting on with the theatre for good, but I'm just so gun shy after ANSP all I feel is anxious. What really cracks me up about the whole thing was my Free Will Astrology from the day I was offered the job

"Your trust was violated in the past, and you still feel the wound. You keep it in the background of your awareness, fascinated with the way it never really heals. Though I sympathize, I want you to know that it's time to move on. Your horrified disbelief about having been treated so badly is close to becoming just another bad habit. Your instinct for self-protection is threatening to devolve into indulgent self-pity. What should you do? The first thing is to forgive yourself for the blindness that put you in the path of those who betrayed you. The second step is to restore your trust in yourself. Third, find a way to feel gratitude for those who abused your trust. Yes, you heard me right: Be thankful for all they taught you about how to become yourself. "